


i threw stones at the stars, but the whole sky fell

by the_one_that_fell



Series: OMGCP Rare Pair Hell [9]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort/Angst, M/M, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 07:19:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11412993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_that_fell/pseuds/the_one_that_fell
Summary: “Why are you being so rude to Jack?” Bitty asked, cornering Holster in the kitchen of Jack’s apartment.Holster frowned. “Why are you avoiding him?”





	i threw stones at the stars, but the whole sky fell

**Author's Note:**

> In an au where the kiss didn't happen
> 
> TW: canon typical alcohol abuse
> 
> Originally posted on tumblr [here](http://alphacrone.tumblr.com/post/162643562507/bittyholtz-pining)

“Why are you being so rude to Jack?” Bitty asked, cornering Holster in the kitchen of Jack’s apartment. They were there for the Falconers’ home opener and the “quiet gathering” Jack had planned for after had turned into a semi-kegster, sans kegs. Half the Falcs had shown up, including Mashkov, who was currently chatting with an incredibly star-struck Ransom. 

Holster frowned. “Why are you avoiding him?” he shot back, only feeling slightly guilty as Bitty’s face crumpled for a split-second before returning to an annoyed purse.

“I’m not,” he said quickly. “But you  _ are _ being a jerk. He got us free tickets to the game tonight, can’t you at least pretend to like him?”

“I didn’t ask him for tickets,” Holster said, but he knew it was a weak argument. He and Ransom had been dying to go to a Falcs game for months, ever since they’d started following the team more closely. 

“Then why did you accept them?” Bitty retorted and  _ wow _ , he was not giving this up. 

“Drop it,” Holster said, grabbing a cup from the counter to fill up with water from the tap. Jack’s fancy-ass, rich-boy fridge had a filter built into the door, and Holster refused to use it on principle. “Go enjoy the party. Running away every time Jack tries to talk to you must be  _ so fun _ .”

“You’re an ass,” Bitty told him, face turning pink with anger and embarrassment.  If you want to act like a child and sulk in the corner,  _ fine _ . But if you keep up this attitude, you’re not gonna have any friends left by graduation.” 

He then turned on his heels and stormed from the kitchen. Holster sighed and watched as Bitty pushed through the crowd to slip out onto the balcony. Though it was only October, the night had quickly grown cold, so Holster grabbed his own sweatshirt from the chair he’d dumped it on and followed Bitty outside. 

Bitty was already shivering as Holster closed the door behind him, sitting on one of the two deck chairs with his arms crossed, glaring out into the night. He didn’t accept the sweatshirt Holster held out to him, so Holster dumped it on his lap and sat in other chair, waiting a moment before speaking. 

“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “I shouldn’t have said that. It was mean.”

Bitty shrugged, still staring out over the neighborhood. “But not untrue.” 

Holster huffed and ran a hand through his hair. The night was colder than he’d anticipated and he was tempted to steal back his sweatshirt. “I still shouldn’t have said it. I know it can’t be easy.”

Bitty looked at him from the corner of his eye, frown deepening. “ _ What _ can’t be easy?” 

“You know,” Holster said, gesturing vaguely. “Your crush...thing…” 

Bitty’s eyes widened and Holster was stunned to see he looked  _ scared _ . “I don’t have a crush,” Bitty said sharply. “That would be creepy.” 

Holster snorted. “No, it wouldn’t. Questionable, maybe, Jack’s kind of an asshole. But not creepy.” 

“Jack’s not an asshole,” Bitty snapped. “And I don’t have a crush.” 

“Bits…” Holster said, softer. “Put the sweatshirt on, you’re gonna freeze to death.” 

“I’m fine,” Bitty said, shivering as he did. Holster’s heart plummeted into his stomach as he noticed unshed tears glimmering in Bitty’s eyes. He sighed again, louder and stood, snatching the hoodie off of Bitty’s lap. 

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said, shoving the sweatshirt over Bitty’s head. Bitty let out a muffled yelp of surprise, struggling a little as Holster manhandled his arms through the sleeves. He eventually stopped wriggling around and let Holster pull the hood over his head and tighten the drawstrings, pouting the whole time. “There, nice and toasty. Now tell me why you’re  _ really _ upset.” 

Bitty sniffled a little. “It’s stupid,” he murmured. 

“Bet it’s not,” Holster said. “And even if it is, is it as stupid as me being a dick to Jack because I’m jealous?” 

“I didn’t mean to fall for him,” Bitty whispered, casting a glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was heading their way. “He snuck up on me. I- it’s been easier, this semester, with him gone, but seeing him tonight…”

“Ah.” Holster nodded in understanding; Jack looked good tonight, even he could admit that. Between the amount of muscle he’d gained in the pre-season and the loose, easy grin he’d sported all night, it was obvious why Bitty was struggling. “Hence the hiding.” 

“I wasn’t hiding,” Bitty said weakly. “You’re jealous of Jack?” 

“Chyeah,” Holster said with a shrug. “Playing pro, fame and fortune, attracting awesome people like you...” He gave Bits an exaggerated wink, just to hear him laugh. 

“Shut up,” Bitty mumbled, struggling to hide his smile. 

“I’m serious,” Holster continued. “I attract weirdos and assholes. I guess ‘cause I  _ am _ a weirdo asshole, but  _ still _ .”

“You’re not a weirdo,” Bitty said incredulously. “Well...no more than the rest of us…” 

“But I  _ am _ an asshole,” Holster said, poking Bitty’s cheek with his finger. Bitty swatted his hand away, grinning. 

“You said it, not me.” 

Holster laughed and shook his head. “After I gave you my sweatshirt and everything. Rude, Bits.” 

“You didn’t  _ give _ me your sweatshirt,” Bitty said, scoffing. “You forced it on me!” 

“Alright, I guess I’ll just be taking it back now,” Holster said, reaching over. Bitty scooted as far away as he could, kicking at Holster’s hand. 

“Nuh-uh,” he said. “No take-backs.” 

“You’re such a brat,” Holster said. “C’mon, I am not nearly drunk enough. Let’s see what fancy alcohol Jack has hidden away.” 

Bitty grinned and stood, following Holster back into the apartment. The atmosphere of the room was wildly different than the balcony, hot and loud and cramped. The pies and cookies Bitty had brought were almost entirely gone, and Holster couldn’t help but smile at the pleased look on Bitty’s face as he noticed. 

Holster found he often couldn’t help but smile when Bitty was around. Bitty was, to be cliche, a ray of sunshine in everyone’s lives. Holster only knew a handful of people he’d consider genuinely  _ good  _ and  _ kind _ : his mom; his youngest sister, Becca; his best friend from Juniors, Dante; Ransom; and now, Bitty. These were the kind of people Holster drifted towards, the kind of people who kept him from total misanthropy. 

They were also the kind of people who would never, ever love him the way he loved them. 

He’d accepted that long ago. 

In the kitchen, Holster and Bitty found two bottles of some local IPA. “Fuckin’ hipster nerd,” Holster muttered, though he had to admit it tasted a lot better than Keystone. Bitty snorted and brought the bottle to his lips, taking several gulps. Holster was struck by the movement of his Adam’s apple, mesmerized as a drop escaped and ran down the corner of Bitty’s mouth. Bitty reached up to wipe it away, casting Holster an apologetic glance after he realized he’d used the sleeve of the sweatshirt. 

“You would not believe the shit I’ve cleaned off that hoodie,” Holster said, taking a long swig of his beer. “It’s fine, really.” 

And that was another thing. Seeing Bitty in his sweatshirt -- no, seeing Bitty  _ swimming _ in his sweatshirt -- was making his brain go to some very inappropriate places. Which was sort of normal; Holster knew he was bi, had known since Dante had given him the best blowjob of his life in the backseat of his mom’s station wagon, and being attracted to hot guys wearing his clothes was  _ normal _ .

Except...some of the images flashing through his mind were almost domestic in nature: Bitty wearing his sweatshirt and nothing else, kissing Holster gently in the Haus kitchen as he made breakfast; Bitty pulling on his sweatshirt because the attic was too cold at night, then climbing back into Holster bunk; Bitty wearing his sweatshirt on Jack’s balcony, leaning over to kiss him for the first time…

Oh.

Oh,  _ shit _ .

Something tugged behind Holster’s naval, a painful longing and realization jolting up to his heart. Despite the drink in his hand, Holster’s throat felt dry. Bitty was talking about something, chattering away, oblivious to the sudden panic in Holster’s mind. 

“Uh, hey.”

They both turned to see Jack standing there, a bit awkwardly, hands in his pockets. Bitty put on a huge, fake smile; Holster didn’t bother. “Hey, Jack,” Bitty said. “Great game tonight.” 

“Thanks,” Jack said. “You guys, um, having a good time tonight? I didn’t really expect a party to happen, but everyone seems to be enjoying it…” 

Bitty nodded, eyes bugging a little hysterically. Feigning inebriation, Holster slung an arm around his shoulder for comfort. He could feel Bitty relax a bit, leaning a little closer. “Yeah! It’s great to meet your new teammates. They seem nice.”

“They are,” Jack said, looking down at his feet for a moment. “Miss you guys, though.” 

Bitty chewed on his bottom lip, and Holster could almost see him hold back the, “I miss you, too.” 

“Samwell’s not the same without you,” Bitty said instead, grip on his beer bottle tightening. “But at least we know our captains are up to the task of filling your shoes.” He looked up at Holster, beaming, and Holster knew he was totally fucked. Bitty thought _he_ was stupid for falling for a straight teammate; Holster was a fucking moron for falling for someone as bright and kind and _better_ _than him_ as Bitty. 

“Well, there’s two of us, so I guess we’re up to the task…” Holster said with a shrug. It was the closest he’d ever come to complimenting anything other than Jack’s ass, and he could see the surprise on Jack’s face. 

“I’ve gotta go talk to George before she leaves,” Jack said, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. “But I do want to catch up with you guys.” 

“Sure, Jack,” Bitty said sweetly. “We’ll just be here, drinking your beer.” 

“Great,” Jack said with a grin. As he left, Bitty’s smile fell, and he leaned against Holster’s chest with a sad look on his face. 

“Did you bring a flask to the game?” He asked softly. 

Holster, in fact,  _ had _ , though he hadn’t brought it out. He and Ransom had been drunk on the excitement of it all, and it hadn’t been necessary. “You need to get drunk?” 

“Wasted,” Bitty said, voice hard and low with determination. 

Without taking his arm off of Bitty’s shoulder, Holster grabbed a Coke from the fridge, cracked it open, and chugged about half of it. Then, with some careful maneuvering, he pulled the flask from his back pocket and poured most of it into the can, handing it to Bitty. “Jack and Coke,” he said with a small grin. “Actually, really cheap and disgusting bottom-shelf whiskey and Coke. Doesn’t have the same ring to it.” 

“Thanks,” Bitty said. He finished off his beer in two gulps, then tossed the bottle into the garbage can and began chugging from the can.    
“Dude, slow down,” Holster said. “Don’t puke on my hoodie.” 

Bitty shot him an exasperated look, but slowed down nonetheless. There was something pained still in his eyes, and Holster held back a deep sigh. It was one thing to fall for someone out of his league, but it was something else entirely to fall for a guy who was in love with someone else.

“You wanna go watch Lardo beat professional athletes at flipcup?” He asked, grabbing his own beer from the counter. 

Bitty nodded, the sleeves of Holster’s hoodie rolled up several times so he could hold the Coke can. “Lead the way,” he said, looking up at Holster with such warm, trusting eyes that Holster knew there was no way he was getting over this crush any time soon. 

At least he could be there as a friend, Holster reasoned as he and Bitty walked back into the main room. And he would try his hardest to help Bitty overcome his feelings for Jack. 

Because this feeling of unrequited infatuation? It was not fun. It hurt like a bitch. 

And at least one of them shouldn’t have to feel it. 

**Author's Note:**

> [alphacrone](http://alphacrone.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. 
> 
> If you think my writing's swell, please check out my original project, [The Discourt Knife.](http://thediscourtknife.tumblr.com/)Chapter 5 was posted just the other day, and there's lot of witty banter and Fighting Evil in this update. Check it out!


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